My phone ringing dragged me from my sleep, and I quickly leaped from the bed and grabbed it from the side table. “Yeah,” I answered groggily, scrubbing at my face as I fought to pay attention.

“I need you to come down to the ring,” Gio’s voice growled through the phone.

I frowned. “Why?”

Gio rarely asked for any kind of help or assistance, he was very much independent and got the job done no matter fucking what.

“Because I can’t get hold of Dad and I have a guy here who’s been asking too many fucking questions, and I don’t have the damn patience,” he rambled angrily. Gio didn’t like to be questioned. We may have grown up with each other, but a brotherly relationship was something we didn’t have. But then, Gio didn’t have relationships full stop. “If you leave it to me, I’ll fucking kill him before we get any answers.”

“Don’t fucking kill him,” I sighed, shaking my head, knowing he’d do just that if I didn’t hurry. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”

The trip downtown took less than twenty minutes. I liked to keep everything close by in case of times like these when we were needed urgently.

Giovanni was Anthony’s eldest son now after his first born Kenneth was killed. Kenneth wasn’t discussed within the household. It would never be admitted outside of the family, but he had a serious mental issue and many years ago went rogue. When Anthony found out exactly what trouble he’d involved himself in, his death hadn’t come as a surprise, but more like a blessing.

Gio stepped up and took his place as the eldest child. His crew mostly ran the underground scene for the family. Fighting rings and paid hits. You’d be surprised how many people came to the family, looking to take someone out. Greedy husbands and wives, people looking to climb the ladder in their business, children wanting inheritance money, or just out of pure vengeance.

That was Gio’s job.

He was the family’s hitman.

And he was good at it.

A vibrant child that had turned into a numb man. The blood on his hands had seeped into his skin, and I wasn’t sure there was any way to wash it off.

Gio’s voice hadn’t sounded too strained, but I was used to that kind of lack of emotion from him. Since he started taking hits, it was like he turned into a robot almost. Sometimes, I even wondered whether he was still able to hold and understand human emotions, he’d allowed himself to become so anesthetized.

What did make me hurry was that he had called me to come and help. Something which he definitely wouldn’t need when it came to brute strength. We’re pretty evenly matched, but Gio was also a fighter, a well-trained, very lethal fighter. If this guy was really asking questions, we needed to find out why before Gio got his hands on him.

The fight club that he ran was beneath a popular DePalma owned night club in Brooklyn. It was small and private and open to invite only. I walked past the line waiting at the front door, men and women, young and old, anxiously waiting to be let inside the raving club despite it still being very early.

Andre and Samuele trailed behind me as I stepped up to the bouncer. His eyes looked up at me in annoyance but quickly changed to one of respect and fear.

“Mister Moretti, Gio is waiting for you downstairs,” he told me with a sharp nod, stepping to the side to allow me to pass through.

“Thank you,” I responded as I walked by, the bass of the music thumping through my body as I stepped inside the club.

Several more security members opened doors and allowed us to pass through, each dipping their head respectfully. The final one led us downstairs into the basement, and as I reached the final step, the noise of flesh against flesh and men roaring and cheering hit me like a sledgehammer. The air was muggy and thick inside the concrete room. It held around fifty people, plus two men inside a floor to ceiling cage. Blood dripped from their faces. One was barely able to keep himself on his feet, while the other had an arm that hung limply at his side, flopping around as though it was made of rubber. They snarled and sneered at each other, making jerky movements that they hoped would throw their opponent off their game.

Men of all different types taunted them, calling out anything they could, desperately wanting their fighter to win—the stakes in the room higher than any other fight you would see.

This wasn’t your typical fight, this was a death match.

Winner take all.

You could practically taste the blood thirst in the room, it seeped into your pores, the atmosphere breeding rabid money hungry vultures that would give up their own family members just to come here and watch a man bleed, watch his life slip slowly from this world and into that of another.

It was something so powerful watching a man’s last breath, and these men, they craved it. It was like a high, an addiction, the smell of blood almost like an aphrodisiac, leaving them lusting for more.

As I turned to follow the security guard into a back room, there was an animalistic scream and the sure-fire crunching of bones. It was a sound you never forgot, one that was embedded in your brain and haunted your dreams. The sound of a soul leaving the earth.

We walked down a small, damp concrete hall until we came to a door. I nodded to the guard in thanks and grabbed the handle, twisting and pushing, not knowing what to expect. Andre stepped in behind me and closed the door with a deafening click.

Gio stood silently across the small room, looking up at me from beneath his thick brow. Between us was a small man, crumpled into a ball, pressing his hand to the side of his head where there was dark fresh blood staining his fingers.

“You took too long, I got impatient,” Gio said simply when I raised my eyebrow in question. “Tell him, motherfucker,” he spat at the man.

He looked up at me, but his eyes showed me one of defiance. His hair was slicked back from his face, his body looked solid and strong, but not like he worked out a lot. Not that it would have mattered if he had, no one could go up against Gio and come out unscathed. The kid knew his craft.

After a few seconds, Gio became impatient and pushed his body off the wall, raging toward the guy like a cyclone bearing down on a house. I smirked, folding my arms across my chest and leaning back against the wall in amusement as Gio picked him up by the throat, the muscles in his forearm straining. “Tell him what you fucking said.”

“I already… told… you,” he choked out, his arms flailing about wildly and his feet kicking about, searching for the floor to release the pressure.

I chuckled. “Giovanni here doesn’t have the best memory, probably one too many hits to the head. So it’s best you just tell me yourself,” I joked, not even garnering a reaction from Anthony’s rage-filled son.

“Okay,” he cried out, and instantly Gio dropped him to the hard concrete floor. He groaned in pain, but with the threat standing over him, he forced his body to turn and look at me. “I was told to find out information on Sophie and Emerson Rossi.”

My heart stopped, and I had to force myself to take a breath as I felt my anger spike. On the outside, I was the perfect mask of calm, though. Not wanting to show how important those names were while trying to stop his words from sinking in. But my body was buzzing like it had an electric current running through it, and it wasn’t just because this little motherfucker had come into our city looking for information to use against us.

It was because Emerson’s name never failed to draw out something inside me that I could never even begin to explain. It was powerful, relentless, and unforgiving, but I didn’t know how to fight it.

Anthony’s niece.

I clenched my teeth.

Smart, beautiful, strong—forbidden.

 

Two Years Ago

 

I stood at the door of the library, watching the girl inside with pure curiosity.

Fifteen minutes I stood there, fourteen and a half minutes too long, but completely and utterly entranced by the movement of her body and the way she flitted across the floor with ease from one shelf to the next. Her fingers danced over the spines of the books, moving to their own tune, her feet seeming to follow along with the beat.

She shouldn’t be in here, I thought.

Anthony had a party of sorts going on within the house to celebrate his sixtieth birthday. I’d chosen to keep myself removed from the festivities, and instead help my men with their patrols of the house. There were family and friends of Anthony’s here, but they most definitely weren’t meant to be anywhere near this wing of the house.

She hadn’t even bothered to turn the lights on, the only reason I’d found her here in the first place was because of the way the light from the hallway had sparkled across the floor length pink and silver dress she wore, attracting my eye.

“Shit!” she gasped, freezing on the spot, her hand reaching for her chest as if her heart might explode from it at any second. Her mouth hung open as she studied me from across the vast room. With a deep breath, she tugged the headphones that I hadn’t realized she was wearing from her ears and bunched them into her fist.

I propped my shoulder against the door frame and folded my arms across my chest, raising my chin and looking at the magnificent beauty through narrowed eyes. “You shouldn’t be in here.”

She licked her full pouty lips and shuffled nervously onto her opposite foot. “Sorry, I didn’t realize. I got a little distracted by all these books.”

Taking a few steps closer, she tilted her head to the side and squinted, as though trying to get a better look at my face. With the light coming in from behind me, I was partially hidden by a dark shadow, but she was obviously far too curious and not so worried about self-preservation.

“Nobody is allowed back here. I suggest you get out,” I told her sternly.

She raised an eyebrow, unwavering by my tone, as she took a few more steps forward. “Then what are you doing back here?”

I gritted my teeth in annoyance. I wasn’t used to being questioned, and by a kid none-the-less. “Making sure everyone stays where they should be.”

She covered her mouth, trying her best to hide her smile, but it was useless. Her eyes twinkled and creased, and a small dimple pulled at her cheek. “Better keep working on that one.” She chuckled in amusement.

I stepped forward, dropping my arms. “Child—”

She immediately dropped her smirk, and her hands clenched at her sides. “I’m not a child,” she snapped, her fierce glare almost cute.

I brightened at her sharp tone, my spine tingling and causing me to stand a little taller.

So, the girl had some balls, I thought.

Sexy and strong. Interesting.

My eyes took on a mind of their own, wandering over her body. She was petite. Long blonde hair flowed freely around her shoulders, and her skin was almost completely free of makeup. But she was beautiful without it—fresh, innocent.

The pink sparkly bodess of her dress was tight and fitted, accentuating a handful of breasts, but also a slightly curvier figure. It wasn’t due to fat though, she had well-defined muscles which told me she was athletic. I had to remind myself that she was far too fucking young to have my cock hard and alert.

Seems he didn’t get the memo, though.

By the time my eyes found hers again, there was a soft blush across her cheeks.

She composed herself quickly. “You done?” she snorted, folding her arms across her chest in an act of defiance that also told me she was nervous under my steely gaze.

“I think it’s time you left… child,” I sneered, feeling this overpowering need to taunt her and push for a reaction. Her returning glare almost brought a smile to my face, and I found myself hoping that she’d take the bait and fight back. For someone so young, she held and spoke with an air of maturity, and I could see the defiant fire that burned beneath her skin. Excitement built inside me at the thought of poking at the embers in hopes that it would begin to rage.

“What’s your name?” she growled with all the fierceness of a kitten.

I smirked now. “Why is that?”

“So I know who to tell my father to have fired,” she hissed.

My unexpected laughter filled the wide empty space of the library, echoing off the shelves and walls. Even as it came back, hitting me square in the face, it still sounded foreign and unnatural. “Angelo,” I stated, as I began to walk around her. “Angelo Moretti.”

“Angelo?” She laughed softly, trying to act like my presence didn’t affect her, but she still couldn’t hide the shiver that moved through her involuntarily. “Angelo means angel. Somehow, you don’t look like the halo and feathers type to me.”

“The devil was an angel once,” I replied, with a shrug of my shoulders.

Her icy blue eyes followed me, as did her body, while I walked slowly around her like a predator eying its prey.

The girl had me intrigued.

Maybe it was because there weren’t a lot of women around here who would snap back at me with such a sharp tongue. Or maybe it was the devil inside me who craved an innocent soul to corrupt, a natural and untouched beauty who I could mold and bend to my will.

Maybe it was both.

She was the perfect combination of confidence and innocence.

An angel seeking chaos.

“What’s your name?” I growled, taking pleasure in seeing her shiver as my voice rolled over her.

Her rosy lips fell open to answer my question as a voice called from the hallway.

“Emerson?”

My eyes hardened instantly, recognizing the name.

“In here, Papa!” she called out. Her eyes stayed connected with mine, judging my reaction, and holding strong despite my darkening glare. She stepped to the side, allowing the bright light from the hallway to illuminate her body, the skin across her chest and neck sparkled as though she was dipped in diamonds.

I didn’t look up.

I knew who her father was.

Nicholas, Anthony DePalma’s brother. The only one of the brothers who decided to step back from the shadow of their mafia family.

“Emmy, I thought I told you not to wander,” her father scolded.

“Sorry, Papa. I just couldn’t help but be entranced by all these books.” Her voice had changed, it was sickly and sweet. It was fake. “I didn’t think Uncle Anthony would mind.” The lie fell from her perfect lips like a professional, someone who had been in the business a long time.

She gestured to me. “Angelo was just telling me his favorite.” The corner of her lip curved up, her mischievousness cutting through the growing tension in the air between us. “Sorry, what was it, Angelo?”

The girl had bigger balls than I’d given her credit for. She may be separated from mafia business and sheltered by her father, but she obviously knew how much power she held with her uncle being Anthony.

I answered her through clenched teeth, “Romeo and Juliet.”

Her eyes brightened with a quirk in the corner of her mouth, enjoying the fact that I was playing along with her little game. “And why is that?”

I walked toward the door where her father was still waiting with a bored expression on his face and stopped beside her. “Because it shows what happens when you ignore the rules and chase after something that’s forbidden…” I watched her out of the corner of my eye, her shoulders tightening. “People die.”

With that, I walked out, but I knew it wasn’t done. Things between Emerson and I had only just begun. She was stubborn and strong-willed, and I knew if I spent any more time in her presence that my fight would wither. I’d never had anything so perfect, so beautiful as her.

She was everything I wanted but couldn’t have.

 

“And who, may I ask, gave you those names?” I growled, taking a step forward, rolling my shoulders as the tension began to build. “And why.”

I knew in my gut that this wasn’t a coincidence. Sophie and Emerson, while on the outside, still had DePalma blood flowing through their veins. They were family.

Their father Nicholas, or Nic as he’s known in the family, walked away to start his own business when he was only young, distancing himself from his family ties. He changed his last name to Rossi so there would be no direct connection to the DePalma name. Their family surprisingly let him leave, but he was ordered never to make contact again, and every memory or photograph that included him was removed from the household.

He was dead to them.

Until their father died, and Anthony decided to reconnect with his brother.

Very few people actually knew his family history. Not only were names changed but documents too, birth certificates were altered. He was wiped from school alumni records, and new ones were created. Nic did whatever he had to, in order to hide who he was. Those who did know, those who remembered, were paid to keep their mouths shut.

“It was just a job, just information, nothing else,” the defeated man croaked, his hand rubbing at his throat, trying to ease the pain. “Things like where they live and what they do. Whether they were protected by the family or not.”

A low growl vibrated within my throat and I stepped forward, undoing the button on my suit jacket and crouching down in front of him. My hand moved to my ankle as I spoke quietly to him. “Tell me who sent you on this mission.” I tried to keep my voice smooth and non-confrontational, not wanting him to hold out on me, and not tell me what I needed to know… before I killed him.

I was a master of smooth talking and keeping my calm when the situation called for a level head, but when it came to someone coming after my family, I struggled to not thrust my knife through his throat.

“I don’t know,” he whispered.

A lie.

I shook my head in disappointment and tsked my tongue. “Wrong answer.”

Pulling my knife from my ankle strap, I gripped the delicate handle in my fist and thrust it through his shiny black business shoes, enjoying the mixture of his painful cries and the clank of the blade against the concrete floor as it pierced straight through his foot. I quickly pulled it back out with a sickening squelch as he rolled onto his back, screaming and cradling his leg.

“Fuck!” he yelled, biting his teeth together, sweat starting to drip from his greasy slicked back hairline.

“Give me a goddamn name,” I demanded, trying to control my anger.

“You’re going to kill me anyway.” He spat at my feet, the ball of saliva landing just shy of my shoes. “So why the fuck would I tell you?”

I chuckled, reaching over and wiping my bloody knife on the leg of his pants. “Gio, you think you have time for one more fight tonight?” I didn’t look over my shoulder, joy bursting in my chest as I watched the little punk’s eyes widen, flicking between me and the ruthless fucking DePalma standing at my back.

“I got all the time in the fucking world.”

“Excellent!” I grinned, “Andre, grab him.”

“No fucking way. No. No!” He tried to push himself across the concrete as Andre advanced on him with a delighted smirk on his face. “Okay,” he screamed in defeat as Andre grabbed his arm.

“Tell me,” I ordered, sick of playing.

If there was someone looking for information on Emerson and her sister Sophie, then that was serious. It meant we needed to find them some protection until we could hunt this asshole down or they were in danger.

“Tobia Bellucci.”

I froze. “Bellucci?”

His head hung like now that he’d given in, he was just waiting for death to come and save him from his pain. “Yeah, Bellucci.”

Looking over at Gio, I noticed his back was straight like a rod, his eyes staring into space, his fingers twitching. Fury was building inside him, I could see it burning, moving through his body like venom.

“Make it hurt,” I quipped, pulling my cell from my pocket.

Gio’s head flicked toward me almost robotically, as if he was having trouble working out what he’d just heard.

We all knew this day was coming.

We knew that at some point they would come back seeking revenge.

“Wait! You said—”

“That was before you said you worked for the family who killed his mother,” I bellowed, my words seeming to ignite Gio’s fire and as I turned my back, the man’s blood-curdling screams followed me from the room and into the dingy hall.

I quickly hit speed dial, tapping my foot impatiently as I waited for it to ring, my heart beating frantically, and a sick feeling settling in my gut that I hadn’t felt before. I wasn’t afraid of a fight, that wasn’t it. These fuckers could come at me, and I would take them down using any kind of sick or twisted means possible.

Hearing Emerson’s name, knowing that she was now a part of this fucked up mess, had my blood burning like it never had before.

It was never meant to touch her or Sophie.

They were never meant to be involved in this world.

But these guys, they were cowards.

We should have known that they wouldn’t face us head on.

They were trying to take the easy way out, but it didn’t matter, they were going to die anyway.

“Angelo,” Anthony answered.

“Sir, we need to get some protection for Emerson and Sophie. There are people snooping around asking questions,” I rushed out, brushing my fingers through my hair.

I was expecting orders, already planning out in my head how I would protect Emerson myself if I had to, all while I hunted Tobia down and reminded him exactly why the DePalma family was not to be fucking screwed with. My blood was already boiling with excitement as I imagined the things I would do to him.

But it was Anthony’s answer that had all those ideas come crashing down around me.

“It’s too late.”